And then there's my three-year old...
This morning, I was doing my usual lazy thing and laying around in bed drinking tea while Cole "watched" the kids and cleaned the office. The office doors are glass french doors and we generally feel that when we're in there, the panopticon is up and running , even when our backs are turned.
So when I stumbled into the kitchen and started digging clean dishes out of the dishwasher, I was surprised by the level of distress in Cole's usually manly, metered, voice when she shrieked, "Shannon, come NOW!" I left the sink water running and dashed around the corner to the living room to find it full of the contents of a now-empty, yesterday-brand-new bottle of Bert's Bees baby powder. Here is just a sample of the horror:
Note the ground in, deep-down nature of the powder and imagine, if you will, that my baby's hair is that carpet. Because Nat had merely spilled a small fraction of the powder on the floor, while aiming for her sister's head. Selina now resembled a wee Martha Washington.
Thinking Cole needed me to nab Nat while she cleaned up, I looked at Nat, hands on hips, pointed to the "time-out" chair and didn't say a word. Nat marched off and took a seat, while Cole said, "quick! go get the camera!" which was apparently why she had screamed in the first place.
So I got the camera. It's a good thing we got it out, because this was not the end of our documentation opportunities today.
Once Selina and I had breakfasted and bathed, I fell back into the day's routine: play, lunch, nap.
Except for some reason, Nat decided that rather than nap today, she would entertain her grouchy, tired sister, who wanted desperately to get some sleep after her morning ordeal. So after an hour of back-and-forth and giggling and fussing, I gave up and took Selina out of the room, thinking that Nat might then settle down and sleep.
I left Cole in charge and took Selina for a long walk in the stroller, in the hopes that she might snooze a little.
When I came home, Selina and I stayed in the back yard for a awhile, watering the flowers, swinging, tasting the grass and various sticks and rocks and generally hanging out in the garden on a lovely afternoon.
All in all, we were out for about an hour and a half.
As soon as we came in, I noticed that Cole was napping and sighed happily, assuming Nat must finally be asleep.
Nat had ransacked her room. She found a way into all the hair and diaper products I thought were out of her reach and scattered products, broke bottles, sprayed water and detangler on herself and various stuffed animals and dolls, and strewed diaper wipes randomly about the room. She peed in her bed (a real feat, since she was wearing her diaper when I found her--she must have taken it off, peed and put it back on).
I was furious. I ordered her out of the room and onto the living room couch. I put on a soothing video about The Very Hungry Caterpillar (because I needed soothing) and told her not to move an inch until it was over. (That's right. I ordered my child to watch t.v. and watch it good.) Then I went about cleaning up her room. I stripped her bed and tossed the linens and the affected animals into the washer, then went to check Selina's crib and see if those linens needed changing too. Here is what I found:
Those are Selina's sleeping buddies, tucked in ever so carefully with diaper wipes for blankets. After I left with Selina, I guess Nat needed a new object for her child care efforts. My heart softened if only for a fraction of an instant. It was so cute, I actually woke Cole from a well earned nap and told her to come look. She brought the camera.
All this destruction (carefully tucked in bear and goose aside) was really getting to me, but the real assault was yet to come. For cast haphazardly into a corner was Dr. DuBois, not only with his eyebrows completely plucked, but sans the most critical piece of his dapper three-piece suit, rendering him most undignified:
Now, I am well aware that Dr. DuBois is not a toy. All his face parts are barely glued on choking hazards. But he was on the highest bookshelf and she has never reached him before. Clearly, today was her day of wrath and determination to destroy everything in her path.
Fortunately in my grand sweep of her room, I found Dr. DuBois's trousers, though not his eyebrows.
I took every single thing out of her room that I don't want her to touch (I think, but let me pause here and knock wood), and now she is in there, supposedly falling into the sleep of the innocent.
I am now going to get some well earned ice cream.